


Little Reminders

by kaynibbler16



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Depictions of blood and injuries, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:30:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaynibbler16/pseuds/kaynibbler16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just a pale scar on his forearm, but it's his reminder of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Reminders

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet. This is just pure angst. Post-Doomsday.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

There was a little scar on the inside of his forearm. It was a faint jagged line, barely visible anymore. It was from a previous trip to a planet he’d never been to before, where a little creature that had appeared to be harmless at first sliced open his arm with its hidden claws. To be honest, it wasn’t too bad of a scratch, but the aggressive bacteria on the creature’s claws slowly ate away at the skin before his body was able to rid itself of the infection. Luckily, his companion had yet to step out of the TARDIS when it happened.

It was just a scar, pale white against his already pale skin.

For many days after he was injured, he found himself scratching the wound open and letting it bleed. Maybe it was just his morbid fascination because Time Lords rarely, if ever, scarred. Their bodies healed so quickly, damaged skin repaired like new. The throbbing ache that came after he tore away the scabbed skin sometimes made him imagine what it must be like to be human; their immune systems so weak against many forms of bacteria and viruses.

When it had finally healed over, the skin was too damaged for his body to repair it. He could always use the dermal regenerator, but he found that he quite liked having scar. At least, in his newest form he did. It was oddly comforting, as though he was as human as his companion. Ever since his regeneration, he had found himself wanting to be closer to her. To Rose. To be more like her. He even sounded like her.

Now, though, now it didn’t matter.

He had no reason to want to be like her.

He could never be with her again.

Sometimes, he liked to pretend he would see her. He’d spot long blonde hair bobbing in and out of the crowd, flitting from place to place. It was almost like they were on an adventure together again. If he squinted hard enough, even his superior sight would blur to the point of obscuring the image of not-Rose, making it seem like she was almost there.

When his eyes caught sight of a flash of pink and yellow or a bright, wide smile, he felt an ache not dissimilar to when he scratched his skin open again. He could even feel the echo of happiness when he heard “forever” spoken in a crowd. At first, it had seemed as though the universe was mocking his pain by hurling all these little moments that brought back every memory of her. As though it was tearing him open again and again until all that remained were jagged scars. But as he looked back he realized that he would much rather have all those moments.

He would rather have his jagged little scar than for it to not to be there at all.

It was his reminder.

His reminder that even though he could lose someone so precious to him, he would eventually move past it, but deep down he knew that he would never get over it. How could he? His feelings would never change. He would always…

_She knew._

So his scar remains hidden underneath his sleeves wherever he went, but sometimes, in the dead of night or after a particularly painful experience, he would peel away the fabric and trace the jagged edges of a memory of happier times.

He would never forget.

Could never.

And he would never regret a moment, except for one.

The moment he lost against time.

Even after the adventure was done and over, and the happy and carefree moments were gone, the memories kept the embers alive and his feet moving day after day. And occasionally he would still catch the faint hint of her perfume on the breeze or imagine the echo of her laughter in a crowd, but it didn’t ache near as badly as it had.

Someday, maybe not anytime soon, he would stop looking for her everywhere he went.

But for now, he would pretend he could still see her in a stranger’s smile. Still hear her footsteps in the quiet of night.

And he would always remember, no matter how much time passed, that her brief presence in his life left its jagged scars on his hearts.

_Forever._


End file.
